


Weddings.

by inabodycastofglass



Series: Old works [18]
Category: Strange Magic (2015)
Genre: F/M, Post Movie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-11
Updated: 2016-09-11
Packaged: 2018-08-14 12:54:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8014792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inabodycastofglass/pseuds/inabodycastofglass
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Marianne didn't want to get married.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Weddings.

Marianne didn’t want to get married. At least, not yet. Every time it was brought up she was reminded of the last time, of flying to the man she thought she loved, and she thought loved her, no longer caring about stupid superstitions about luck. They didn’t need luck; they had love.

Then seeing him with someone else, wrapped in each others arms, kissing. In that place where she once thought she should be. Of course now she knew it never was. But that didn’t stop her heart from being ripped in two. Sometimes, even illusions were enough to scar. After all, she thought it was true.

At some point she realized he’d already seen her, that day, already in her wedding dress. She’d hidden a moment too late. And sometimes, in the dark nights when she was alone, when she walked around her room after waking in the middle of the night for whatever reason, and Bog wasn’t there, was back in his own castle, she would wonder if that was what made it all go wrong.

Of course it wasn’t. Roland was a terrible person, a coward, a sneak. He was poison wrapped up in a pretty little bow. And he’d been that way from the start. Luck had nothing to do with anything.

Still, sometimes she couldn’t help but think it.

Never when she was with Bog, of course. When he was with her it was like Roland didn’t even exist; just a joke for them to share. You really dated that guy? I know, right? And that was it. He was a passing thought, where he belonged.

Dawn didn’t understand, of course. She still didn’t know Roland had cheated on her. She knew he was a slimeball. After all, he’d almost run her through on the way to Bog. So she accepted the way she’d refused to let him back in her life, their home, anywhere near them. But why didn’t she want to marry Bog, who’d never do a thing to hurt her?

The truth was, she didn’t know. Even when Bog was “evil” he was still a respectable, honest man. When he kidnapped Dawn and she drove him positively insane with her potion induced love, he’d refused to lay a hand on her, finding a non-violent solution, showing her kindness when it would have been much easier to just knock her over the head and be done with it. Heaven knew Marianne would have wanted to.

And never once, not for a single moment, had he shown Merianne the slightest sign that he was interested in anyone aside from her. Ever since that first night he’d only looked at her with the most pure devotion. He loved her, which was something Roland had never even considered.

And she loved him. They both knew that. Everyone knew that.

So then why?

She found him standing in a corner of his throne room one night when she’d woken up without him next to her. He was staring at something in his hands, turning to her as he heard her approach.

He could always do that, sense her coming when she made no noise. It was probably from all the fighting they did. Finely tuned senses.

“That’s one of the boutonnieres I made you.”

He held his arm out for her and she slipped into it, pressing against his side. She closed her eyes as his arm wrapped back around her, a warmth she’d fought for so long to convince herself she didn’t want pooling through her in a rush. Peace, comfort. She sighed.

Moments like this, where they just enjoyed each others company in simplicity, were rare. Though not unheard of, they were regulated to the night, when the world around them was asleep and they had to be silent. During the day they were all about movement and banter, both loud and tough and active.

“The first one.”

She reached out and touched the edge of a dried up petal with her knuckles. “You kept it.”

“I’ve kept all of them.”

She chuckled, a quiet breath. “You big softy.”

He put it back in a drawer which, indeed, held every boutineers she’d made him over the last few years, and the one she now knew was made by Dawn. He really was sentimental, a real sucker for anything home made. It made him feel important, loved. She took his hand in hers and kissed it.

“As much as I hate to ruin the mood, you should know my mother’s been talking to me about weddings again.”

Great. “Hoo boy. How’d that go?”

“I can’t keep telling her we’re not ready forever. Eventually she’s going to want to know why.”

Marianne shifted her weight, feeling confined now. "Tell her it’s our business.”

He looked down at her. Marianne loved Griselda, much like she’d loved her own mother, never having a bad thing to say about her.

He slipped from her, his hand staying on her arm in a light touch, stepping away from her so they could look at each other. “But when will I know why?”

She looked down, biting her lip. “Because-” She took a breath. Deep emotional talks weren’t really their thing. They sputtered and stumbled without someone there to buffer out the jagged edges that they were made almost entirely out of. Both of them torn and still working at smoothing themselves out. “I don’t know. I guess I’m scared.”

“Scared?” He moved his face closer to hers, kissing her forehead lightly and she closed her eyes at that feeling. “I would never do anything to hurt you.”

When she looked into his eyes she saw the hurt. He thought she didn’t trust him. But that wasn’t it at all. She’d never trusted anyone more, not even herself.

“I know you wouldn’t. It’s not you I’m afraid of. It’s-” She shivered, the words lodging themselves deep in her throat, trying desperately to keep from being said. She laced her fingers through his. “It’s wedding’s I’m afraid of. I’m scared they’ll ruin what we have, tear us apart.”

He scooped her up and she cried out in surprise, grabbing onto his arms, though he held her firmly by the waist and her wings still had full mobility.

“Nothing can ruin what we have. It’s love.”

She closed her eyes, resting her forehead on his. She felt the way his body still grew weak when he said romantic things to her. She smiled, letting out another chuckle in a breath, and kissed him. “I know it doesn’t make sense. It doesn’t make sense to me either. But I’m working on it.”

He breathed against her, humming softly “Nothing Else Matters” in her ear. Yes, this was much more their style. Physical, strong, with music that no one else ever touched.

“We’ll get there, someday. I promise. I do love you.”

He held her tighter. “Of course. Don’t push yourself. I love you too much to see you suffer.”

“Never with you.”

Bog set her back down. “Let’s go back to bed.” He started for their room, pulling her with him, stopping when she didn’t follow.

She stepped closer to him, flying up to him for a kiss. “Thank you.” She put her feet back to the floor and smiled at him, closer to herself than this deep, soulful thing she was being, and pulled him after her so he had to fly to keep up.


End file.
